


Sunlight off the Water

by writinwaters (Anithene)



Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Established Relationship, F/M, Fluff, One Shot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-21
Updated: 2016-08-21
Packaged: 2018-08-10 04:52:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 528
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7831042
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Anithene/pseuds/writinwaters
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>At this angle, the light off the water flecks her skin like scales - or the edge of a knife.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sunlight off the Water

**Author's Note:**

> From a tumblr prompt: First time bathing together. Featuring my Lavellan, Malfinneth, whom I should probably write about more often.

There is a scar between her breasts.

It’s a wicked, sickle-curved thing, roughly the length of an outspread hand. A scar made by a blade. It slithers up from the curve of her ribs before curling up around her left breast. The scar has the shiny quality of flesh newly healed; a year old, perhaps less.

“Didn’t your mother ever teach you not to stare?”

She has her arms thrown up above her head, hands working her golden hair loose from a braid. The sunlight cuts a clean swipe across her face, freckled as it is - yes, there’s a scar on her lip, too.

She’s smiling at him. A rare thing. It does not glimmer like sunlight or sparkle like the water; Malfinneth Lavellan smiles more like an old woman who has been dealt one too many bad cards. It’s bitter.

But genuine. A smile she has given only to him.

“Not when the subject interested me,” Solas replies, wading further into the river. Summer has all but shoved its way past spring, bringing a sudden burst of warmer winds and greener valleys. The Hinterlands is the first to bear its bounty; though Malfinneth had made the excuse of gathering more supplies, Solas knows her haste to bring him here had less practical motivations.

Malfinneth, for her part, seems unfazed by both the heat and his stare. She finally loosens the braid, drapes her damp hair over one shoulder. He watches, fascinated, as a droplet of water glides from that freckled shoulder to the inside of her elbow. She’s still smiling at him, though it has a ferocious edge. 

“If I knew bathing with you would make you stare, I would have done it ages ago.”

That draws his attention. Had he not known her as he had - if he had not watched her challenge a blighted dragon with the bravado of a woman facing her death, or danced to strings plucked by nobles plotting her murder - he would have thought she was insulting him. He would have thought the thorns she pricked with only bled, not healed into scars.

Solas doesn’t protest when her fingers, ever so lightly, find a place around his wrist. She urges him closer, close enough that he can feel the heat of her body. Sense the flood beneath her bones. There’s water dripping off her face, gathering at the broad line of her jaw. At this angle, the light off the water flecks her skin like scales - or the edge of a knife.

Her fingers leave his wrist, and the knife edge recedes.

“Come now, Solas. First you stare, then you don’t answer a lady’s question?”

He laughs. It’s short, breathless, the tether finally snapping. “Pardon my manners. I see no lady before me.”

_I see a Queen_ , his mind supplies, but the words tangle around his tongue.

She wades away from him, walking backwards across the riverbed. Her steps are sure, as if her feet have danced across a million rivers like this one. There’s a deliberate sway to her hips. A coyness to that bitter smile.

“Good. Now, help me wash my hair.”

Solas follows her further into the water.


End file.
